


we were in streaming color

by askmeaboutmyoctopustheory



Series: clintucky fried chicken [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Sex, Awesome Clint Barton, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky's Purple Boxer Briefs, Canon Rewrite, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Gay Bucky Barnes, Injury, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Rimming, Top Clint Barton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-04-23 20:25:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19158355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/askmeaboutmyoctopustheory/pseuds/askmeaboutmyoctopustheory
Summary: you saw your soulmate's color and your own color. some people were lucky with common colors, others were not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello all! this idea came to me and i wanted to get it out there, based on my current pacing it might be a longer one? (for me thats like 4 chapters sksksk)
> 
> anyway find me on twitter @_AMAMOT or on discord
> 
> not beta read so let me know my mistakes
> 
> for this story anything in italics is spoken in a foreign language lol
> 
> thanks bad decision buddies for the sprints and keeping my plotbunny safe

Bucky’s world had always been drab, which wasn’t odd in the slightest. He was just cursed to have an abnormal color. The color purple wasn’t commonly seen around the bleak streets of Brooklyn. He wasn’t one of the lucky ones who saw the blue of the sky, or the green grass of central park. He saw glimpses of his soul color in flowers sold in markets or clothing of wealthy women. Bucky remembered the first time Steve could afford a full set of colored pencils, he nearly cried at the vibrant purple that he saw. Bucky had no idea what his own color was, he only saw purple which made him think he was one of the unlucky bastards with an unrequited soulmate. Steve saw red, one of the more common soul colors. He saw the bold stripes of the flag and the red lipstick on ladies in dance halls. Steve also saw blue, which was his own color. He was one of the lucky ones. 

 

“Maybe they’re a real wealthy lady, Buck.” Steve would say. “‘S the color of nobility after all.”

 

Bucky never let himself think such fanciful things. Steve was the romantic with fantasies of true love and red lipstick. Bucky didn’t want to let himself think about the future, he just had to keep them going, keep the water running and Steve’s medicine coming. When his draft letter came, he wasn’t the least bit surprised. He was healthy, had a good eye and an uncommon soul color. It was unlikely he was gonna meet ‘the one’ and desert his duty. Steve, the stubborn punk, tried to enlist but his bum lung likely saved his life. Bucky remembered the night before he shipped out he caught a glimpse of a purple skirt swirling in the dance hall, but his life remained drab.

 

\---

 

_ “Ready to comply”  _ The Asset said in his chair. 

 

His handler held up a chart of colored squares,  _ “What colors are there?” _   
  


_ “Purple. Only purple.” _

 

_ “Thank you for your compliance.” _

 

The Asset sat stone-still in his chair, not thinking twice about the routine question after he was woken up. He knew questions about the other squares would mean the cattle prod. He just needed his mission.

 

\---

 

“On your left.”   
  
“Uh huh. On my left. Got it.”

 

Steve’s world was suddenly jolted into technicolor. His eyes were assaulted with the brilliant green of the grass that surrounded the National Mall and he unceremoniously tripped and fell. His stealth training kicked in and he somersaulted out of it, but he remained kneeling on the gravel in front of the Lincoln Memorial. Steve’s ears were ringing but he could hear the crunching of feet on the gravel behind him.

 

“Need a medic?” A voice asked.

 

Steve turned to see a dark-skinned man with a crooked smile grinning down at him and offering a hand to help him up. He accepted the hand and nodded.

 

“I’m uh- Steve. Steve Rogers.”

 

“Sam Wilson.” The man-Sam, Steve’s soulmate- replied. The two just stared at each other for a beat. “Holy shit my soulmate is Steve Rogers. What the-”   
  
Steve scratched behind his head as Sam clearly started to realize what just happened. His eyes flickered down to the sweatshirt that Sam wore. “What unit were you with?”   
  
“58th pararescue, now I’m down at the VA” Sam finally met Steve’s eyes again. “Damn your eyes are blue.”   
  
Steve blushed. “Hey do you uh. Want to get coffee or anything? I don’t think I’ll be able to focus for the rest of my run with all this-”

 

“Yeah.” Sam cut him off. “Sounds great.”

 

\---

 

Barnes stood on the banks of the Potomac river, watching the smoldering building across from him. He looked down at the blond man-Steve?- who was slowly stirring in the mud. He had to leave, he wasn’t ready to face the other man and who he wanted Barnes to be. He had called him Bucky, was that his name? He groped in his holster for his knife, twirling it once before sinking the point into his leg and carving out the HYDRA tracking device in his calf. He crushed the tiny device in his metal hand and threw the remains into the river. Barnes looked back at the stirring man on the river bank. He needed to lay low. He needed other clothes, something with sleeves. He needed time to figure out who he was.

 

Barnes took out one of his small knives from the innermost pocket of his jacket and stabbed it into the ground next to Steve’s face. It would be a few hours til nightfall, giving him enough time to dry off before breaking in somewhere to steal new clothes. There was a tall grove of trees behind him, easily scaled and provided ample cover. And he could make sure that Steve was recovered by his team. 

 

Sitting in the tree was oddly soothing to Barnes, he knew this was something he learned before HYDRA. He saw Steve stir and cough up water, his mind suddenly jumping to a much skinnier blond being shaken by coughs in a dingy flat. Steve was eventually collected by a slightly, sharp-eyed woman, and Barnes’ fuzzy mind brought forth images of a ballet. He recognized the man that he had kicked off the helicarrier, now without wings. Steve embraced the man, kissing him gently on the cheek. Barnes’ addled brain was spinning out of control, sure that he had no memory of anything similar. Shockingly, after a moment of headache, he remembered a dark alley, with strong hands holding him against the bricks as chapped lips nipped at his. 

 

He needed to write down what he remembered. Night was falling, so Barnes shimmied down the tree. He knew that the man who had been his handler for this mission, Pierce, was likely dead. HYDRA was in shambles after the exposure and likely would not be organized enough to check on his old estate. Barnes made his way back to the mansion where he had been those few days earlier and looted the place. He found a casual change of clothes and money, leaving his old attire on Pierce’s bed in case HYDRA eventually came and checked on the place. Fuck them.


	2. Chapter 2

Barnes was able to be fairly incognito as he lurked around Washington DC. He had covered his arm with a glove and sleeve and nobody had given him a second glance. He had even toyed with the idea of taking his arm off completely, but he didn’t trust HYDRA to not be hiding around every corner.

 

He found himself in a library, searching on the computer for Captain America and finding video clips of a battle against metal creatures in what looked like New York. Barnes hadn’t been to New York in a long time. Had he grown up there? His brain was still fuzzy. The footage of the battle showed Steve-Captain America- fighting alongside other people in odd outfits. There was a flying metal man, the same woman who had been alongside Steve a few days ago, what looked like a humanoid creature with huge muscles, a long haired man carrying a hammer. Barnes watched the video of their fight, how it looked choreographed almost like a dance.

 

A final fighter joined the team on the screen and jumped into the melee of the battle. Barnes’ eyes were accosted with bright, violent purple. The last man fighting in the battle was decked out in a bright purple vest with eggplant colored pants. Somehow this wasn’t the most remarkable thing about the man, because he was shooting with a bow and arrow. The archer had a gracefulness about him as he fought alongside the others that Barnes couldn’t help but watch. His purple-clad legs would flip and spin, pivoting to never miss a target while his arm muscles bulged almost obscenely with each draw of the bowstring. The video of the fight was over, and the screen read “Thank you, Avengers” so Barnes clicked on another video. It was the same group of fighters, shot from a different angle. This one was mostly focused on the man that seemed to be encased in a metallic suit of armor. Even so, Barnes’ eye got distracted everytime the purple-clad archer was in the frame of the video. 

 

He frowned and glanced around the library. A flyer for the Smithsonian caught his eye, advertising a Captain America exhibit. Hoping he would have more luck there, he found himself in the air and space museum after a short walk through DC and a stop at a drug store to pick up a notebook. He now had a purple notebook and pen as he was accosted with overwhelming memories. Barnes had barely stepped into the exhibit when he was flooded with thoughts of a dusty old apartment in Brooklyn, of tending to knuckles so bruised he could see the color, of being strapped to a table and rescued by Captain America. He sat down on one of the benches to write when his eye was caught by a large etched glass monument in the middle of the next room.

 

His own, much younger, face was staring at him out of the etched glass. His own life story was written on the glass, with his death marked as 1944. Bucky, it said his name was. Barnes frowned, he didn’t think he was the same person that was immortalized in glass. How strange, not even recognizing his own name. Maybe he should work on becoming Bucky again. And really, there was only one person who could help him do that.

 

\-----

 

It was late into the evening when Bucky landed softly through the apartment window he had recently shot someone through. He had cased the building before his original mission and knew the layout of Steve’s apartment. He could hear someone in the kitchen and there was a record playing music he had vaguely heard before. Bucky stepped forward, holding his breath as he realized he didn’t really plan out how this reunion would go.

 

“Buck I can hear you.” He froze at the voice that came from the kitchen. “Do you need food? I’m making some. If not have a seat wherever, there aren’t any booby traps, I promise”

 

Bucky remained frozen in his spot, eyes flickering around until Steve appeared with two bowls of what looked like a thick stew. His stomach betrayed him with a growl as he realized he hadn’t eaten properly in several days. Steve set one of the bowls on his coffee table and then sat down in a chair to eat his own. He picked up a book with a boy riding on a broomstick on the cover and started reading with one hand. 

 

Bucky cautiously sat down and took a bite of the stew. It was hot and good and his eyes flickered back and forth between the bowl and Steve. He used to be an awful cook, someone must have taught him new recipes. Bucky took out his notebook and pen to make a note of his new memory. After he wrote it down he looked up and saw Steve looking at him curiously.

 

“Purple, huh?”

 

Bucky nodded and finished the rest of the food in a few large bites. HYDRA hadn’t given him solid food often, let alone good food that was hot. Even the soft beef in the stew made his jaw hurt. He looked around the apartment, but nothing else was triggering any memories. He looked over at Steve who was still pretending to read his book.

 

“Steve.” He said softly. Steve looked up at him eagerly and Bucky had no idea what to say. 

 

Luckily, Steve started rambling about the missions he had been on recently and his friends. He told Bucky about meeting Sam, his soulmate. He talked about people calling him a superhero and meeting a bunch of other superheroes in New York. He talked about all his teammates and how weird the modern world is. Bucky nodded along, listening intently and occasionally writing something in his book. He had quite a few things written now, and flipped through the few pages of scratchy handwriting and saw Steve looking at him sadly.

 

“Still haven’t found ‘em?” Steve nodded at the notebook. “Your soulmate. Never crossed paths?”   
  
Bucky shook his head, opening his mouth and then pursed his lips in confusion. He looked at Steve cautiously. “Your soulmate...” He spoke slowly. “A fella?”

 

“Yes.” Steve smiled down at his lap. 

 

“That’s allowed?”

 

“Yeah.” Steve didn’t say anything more, didn’t ask any questions, he just stood up and took their bowls to the kitchen. “I’m gonna go to bed. You stayin’ here?” Bucky nodded. “If you need a shower it’s down the hall. I’ll set up the second bedroom.”

 

“Steve?” 

 

“Yeah Buck?”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Steve nodded and smiled a small smile. “‘Til the end of the line.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this is really bucky-centric so far but i promise clint is coming! thank you for any comments and kudos!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's 2:15am and i have some regrets but here's this

Bucky spent the next few days lounging around Steve’s apartment, watching historical documentaries and jotting things down on his notepad when a new memory came to him. Steve spent his days dealing with the fallout of the SHIELD downfall, occasionally talking on the phone in a low voice far into the evening. He would always come and eat dinner with Bucky, but Bucky could tell that his mind was elsewhere. It had been about a week when Bucky heard Steve raising his voice to whoever he talked to all these times on the phone.

 

“I gotta go to New York.” Steve said, his voice laced with anguish as he sat on the sofa where Bucky was watching a cold war docuseries. “Fury wants us all together to figure out this SHIELD nonsense.” Bucky nodded silently. “You can come with. If you’d like. We’ll be staying in Stark tower, its real nice and safe.”

 

“Stark.”

 

“Yeah, Tony Stark.”

 

Bucky swallowed. “I killed them.” He glanced at Steve. “He called me Sergeant.”

 

“I know Buck. So does Tony, Nat got a hold of your file from Kiev.”

 

“Ok.” Bucky said simply.

 

“You’ll come with me?” Steve didn’t try and hide his glee.

 

“Yeah. Time to stop hiding.”

 

\---

 

New York was nothing like he remembered. But the memories came flooding back regardless. He was in the cramped backseat with Sam, while Steve sat in the passenger seat and Natasha drove. Bucky had met them both the previous day, had eyed Sam warily, and swore in Russian when Natasha shook his hand. He remembered her, he was glad she had gotten out too. She navigated through the rush of the big city, muttering and cursing out other drivers in a variety of languages. Bucky had his pen and notebook on his lap, scribbling rapid notes as Natasha veered around the outer city limits. 

 

“Purple, huh?” Sam’s voice cut through his flood of memories. He was looking at the notebook in amusement but there was something serious in his tone. The energy inside the car seemed to shift momentarily. Bucky saw him meet Natasha’s eye in the rearview.

 

“Yeah.” Bucky said simply, not wanting to dig into whatever he wasn’t picking up on.

 

“What’s your’s? Your color?”

 

Bucky snorted like an angry animal “Fucking silver.”

 

“Well you’ll like where we’re going.” Natasha said from the front. “Big silver phallus in the middle of Manhattan.”

 

Bucky startled, suddenly hit with a memory. “You-you could always see color.”

 

She glanced slightly back at him. “Yes, I could. I was born color seeing, but it’s muted. Some colors are stronger than others.”   
  


“What- What is that?” Bucky knew this was not unheard of but had never thought much about it.

 

“I don’t have a romantic soulmate, which is what most soulbonds are.” She explained smoothly. “I’m asexual, the more vibrant colors are my platonic soulmates.”

 

“Oh.”

 

She said this without hesitation, so sure of herself and not fearing judgment. Bucky watched her profile, strong and confident. He thought of how unabashedly Steve and Sam showed their affection. He thought of the man in purple who he had seen in the fight videos, wondered if he would be wherever they were going. Maybe he could allow himself to indulge in that thought.

 

\-----

 

Stark tower was as ostentatious as expected, but Bucky was oddly grounded by the glinting of the silver against the bleak world of New York. He felt an odd thrill coursing through him. The inside of the tower was similarly opulent, but nothing compared to the man who gave it it’s name.

 

“Tony Stark. Big fan.” He introduced himself with a vigorous handshake.

 

“Um.” Bucky said intelligently. “Bucky. Barnes.”

 

“So good to have all the kids under one roof.” The energetic man bounced around the team common room from Steve to Natasha in greeting. 

 

“Banner?” Natasha asked. “Barton?”

 

“In his lab, and probably in the vents” Tony waved his hands dismissively.

 

Natasha laughed at this and excused herself. She made her way down to the shooting range where she saw a familiar figure in a vibrant purple. She stood at the entrance, watching Clint in his trance-like state nocking arrows and hitting a bullseye perfectly each time. The simulated shooting program ended and he turned and gave her a wide grin, they met halfway in a tight embrace.

 

“Love the hair.” She laughed, her hands running along the shaved sides and messing up the shaggy top. 

 

“Ah it’s awful, I know.” he shrugged sheepishly. “Kate dared me.”

 

“You’re a disaster.”

 

“I’m aware.” 

 

She pulled him in for another tight hug. “There’s someone you’ve gotta meet.”

 

He chuckled and started packing up his arrows. “The Winter Soldier, I know. I’m deaf but I still hear rumors.” 

 

He took a drink from a mirror-silver water bottle and Nat watched it in his hand. “I think you’ll like him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so things to note i guess:  
> clearly i'm cherry picking clint's characterization, i see him as renner, but blonde and the dumbass from the comics, but i gave him the endgame mohawk because i am chaotic like that
> 
> i'm also making my own canon clearly
> 
> ron_swanson_i_can_ do_what_i_want.gif


	4. Chapter 4

Steve assured Bucky that he didn’t have to interact with the team if he didn’t want to, leaving him mostly to his own devices. With the Avengers and Fury trying to rebuild SHIELD, Bucky occupied his days in the tower much like he occupied them in Steve’s apartment. Stark had a seemingly endless list of television channels and Bucky could not understand why so many of them centered around food. Yet, he found himself watching  _ Chopped _ for hours at a time in between the playing of documentaries on the History channel. 

 

The team invited him down to dinner each night, but he hadn’t gone down yet. Steve would bring him some of the food Bruce had made and never pushed him. Bucky knew there were a few more people that had arrived in the tower that he hadn’t met but couldn’t bring himself to interact with that many people at once. He only wandered around the tower when he felt confident that the others wouldn’t be there. He would only linger in the common room if the company was limited to Steve, Sam, and Natasha. Bucky knew that the talking ceiling was somehow omnipresent, but he often sensed that he was being watched in another sense and occasionally would hear the vents creaking. 

 

\---

 

Ok, maybe it was bad. He wasn’t hiding, he wasn’t. Clint just wanted to give the other twitchy, brainwashed assassin his space. So he lurked in the vents, watching Barnes wander the tower like a lost puppy. 

 

“ _ Barton you’re really comparing the Winter Soldier to a lost puppy?” _ his internal voice scolded him, sounding suspiciously like Natasha.

 

Truthfully, Barnes just reminded him that there was no excuse for being the piece of shit that he was. Clint’s stint as a puppet for an evil dictator-type was like a blink of the eye in the Winter Soldier’s long, brainwashed history. Yet here he was, watching documentaries about Woodstock and clenching his metal fist when a  _ Chopped  _ contestant tried to make a vinaigrette at the last second. Barnes walked around in fuzzy socks and kept his hood up. He spoke softly and looked around shyly. He wasn’t the killer that all baby assassins heard stories about, nor was he the cocky ladies man from a newsreel. But that wasn’t even the biggest reason Clint kept hiding. He was hiding because he caught sight of the notebook that Barnes carried like it was glued to his hand. It was purple.

 

\----

 

Bucky was doing his usual late night wander through the tower, when he could reliably know there wouldn’t be anyone’s path to cross. He stopped in the kitchen to grab a plum and noticed that the coffee maker was on.

 

“JARVIS?” He was still tentative about talking to the ceiling.

 

“Yes Sergeant Barnes?”

 

“Is anyone else awake?”   
  
“Indeed, Agent Barton is currently at the shooting range.”

 

Barton was one of the names that Bucky had heard people talking about but hadn’t met yet. He had also been to the shooting range but had been overwhelmed by the hologram targets and new-age weapons and had left. The training area that included the range took up five stories in the middle of the tower. The shooting range was at the bottom, with rope netting above it as rock climbing walls stretched up all the walls and. A Hulk-proof weight room and cardio machines were situated around a mezzanine overlooking the shooting range. Various ropes courses were tucked up in the rafters and could be lowered with a flick of a switch. 

 

Bucky crouched in the mezzanine level, overlooking the range but not seeing anyone. He looked around further, confused. Then a bell rang out from the shooting floor and he saw simulated targets start appearing in the air. Three at once exploded from the bullseye as an arrow hit them and clattered to the ground. A purple blur somersaulted, hit three more targets, and landed smoothly with a bow nocked with three more arrows.  The shooting simulation ran it’s course and the archer was standing in the middle of the range, chest heaving with exertion. 

 

Bucky was transfixed and stood up from where he was crouched. The archer must have sensed his movement because he whirled around and drew his bowstring back. They locked eyes for several moments and Bucky felt like his vision was tunneling and suddenly he felt a dozen emotions all at once and the world shattered into blinding color around him.

 

“YOU!” Bucky heard himself yell, not sure what emotion he was really feeling. He scrambled backwards, tripping over his feet.   
  
Clint wordlessly put his arrow in the quiver and set his bow down. His eyes were overstimulated with the sudden onslaught of colors but it seemed like his soulmate-his soulmate was Bucky Fucking Barnes-was panicking. He hauled himself onto the stack of foam bricks they used for obstacles when training and swung his arms to jump up and vault over the short wall. Barnes was wide eyed and looked like a caged animal pushed against the wall.. Clint unclipped his quiver and squatted down a little ways away from the other man.

 

“So.” Clint started speaking. “Silver. That shit’s rough.”   
  
“Yeah.” Bucky said warily. “Purple ain’t common for a poor kid in the depression either.”   
  
“Right.” Clint scratched at his neck. “So uh. I’m Clint.”   
  
“I know who you are, Barton.” Bucky snapped, still looked scared but had relaxed his stance a bit. “And there are no secrets to who I am.”

 

“Who do you want to be, Barnes?” Clint   
  
“It’s Bucky.” He finally relaxed and seemed to exhale and look around and process the colorful world around him.

 

Clint stepped closer to him, almost feeling like he was magnetically drawn to him. “It’s a lot all at once I get it if-”   
  
“I haven’ been kissed since 1944” Bucky blurted out suddenly, cutting Clint off midsentence. There was a beat of silence while they both just stared at each other.

 

“Ok.” Clint said simply. “I’m not gonna push this, I’ve got no-”  

 

Clint’s cautious words were cut off with chapped lips against his. The first brush of their mouths was awkward and clumsy. “Sorry” Bucky whispered as he buried his head in Clint’s broad shoulders. “I used to be good at this.”

 

“Hey.” Clint put a finger under Bucky’s chin and lifted it to look him in the eyes. “Let’s try again.”

 

And he used the hand already under Bucky’s face to tilt his head further, while the other wrapped around his waist. Clint slotted their lips together and pulled Bucky in so they were pressed together fully. The former assassin seemed to melt into the embrace, moving his lips softly and chasing kiss after kiss. He held onto Clint’s broad back with his flesh hand and let his metal one hang awkwardly until the strong fingers laced through them after stroking from his chin, down his shoulder and arm. Clint broke apart and rested his forehead on Bucky’s and the rest of the world melted away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh we got there!! i think this'll be one or two chapters longer? and probably E rated so.......
> 
> the gratuitous chopped references and use of the word mezzanine are all thanks to BDBD and i have no explanation
> 
> thanks for all the lovely comments that feed my family


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky jolted awake, which was nothing abnormal for him. He had his fair share of nightmares, albeit less in the month since he and Steve had come to the tower. This time, he woke up not from a nightmare, but just an overwhelming sense of dread and a twist in his gut. Bucky turned a lamp on and took stock of his bedroom on Steve’s floor. 

 

“JARVIS?” Bucky asked. He had gotten more comfortable with the AI, especially with all the security features installed. “What is the projected threat level?” 

 

“Threat level in the tower is at 25%. There was a recent drug-related arrest a street over and Dr. Banner is stirring more than usual in his sleep.” 

 

Bucky frowned. JARVIS was rather fail-proof so there was no imminent threat to him, meaning his general sense of unease and dread was unfounded. 

 

“If I may, Sergeant Barnes.” JARVIS continued. “I can remotely monitor those on mission currently, and a few minutes before you awoke, Agent Barton’s comm unit was abruptly cut offline”

 

Bucky was suddenly on his feet and pacing. All of the avengers now lived at the tower full-time so that they could be directed out to missions more efficiently. Really they were just covering up for the SHIELD fallout. Clint and Natasha were on a cleanup mission that was fairly low-risk. But even low-risk sometimes went south and a comm unit cutting out probably meant something bad. 

 

Bucky had seen Clint without his shirt enough to know that the man wasn’t careful on mission. He was littered in pink scars and usually had a collection of bruises in every color of the rainbow. If he had gotten injured, it wasn’t unlikely that their soulbond had somehow pained something in Bucky to wake him up.

 

“Sergeant Barnes, I have just received communication from the Agent Romanoff in the jet. They are en route and she has requested medical upon landing.”

 

Bucky swore and stalked out of his room. He made his way to the elevator and jammed the button for Clint’s floor. It had become a bit of a routine for him on nights when his mind kept him awake to shuffle up to Clint’s floor and slip into his bed next to him. This was so much worse. Bucky felt especially high-strung as he whirled around, getting a travel mug of Clint’s favorite Indonesian Dark Roast, getting his favorite purple throw blanket from the sofa. Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he acted like this, purely driven by emotion and he felt like he could burst into tears. He would have felt if his soulmate had died, right? Bucky swallowed hard and rode the elevator to the landing pad to wait. 

 

Bucky could sit for hours with his rifle pointed but nearly wore a hole in the quinjet landing and launch pad with his pacing as he waited. The quinjet appeared silently and barely settled when the ramp was flung open. Natasha limped out, supporting a barely-conscious Clint with one hand and keeping the other pressed onto her thigh. Bucky rushed towards them, scooping Clint bridal style and realizing the side of his tac jacket was bloody. A floating stretcher met them as they got to the medical floor, Natasha breaking off to get her leg examined. Bucky waited as doctors and surgeons poked at Clint inside of an operation room, almost feeling each jab poking him too.

 

\-----

 

Aw, medical, no. Clint could already tell he was in a hospital bed as he came groggily back into the conscious world. Luckily Nat or whoever had examined him had taken his aides out so his ears weren’t all gummed up. He kept his eyes closed and allowed his senses slowly acclimate to the room in the medical wing. The standard crunchy mattress and smell of antiseptic. He let a sliver of white lighting reach his eyes to slowly acclimate them to the harsh lighting. Clint groaned and opened his eyes fully, looking over expecting to see Natasha sitting in the guest chair looking exasperated at him. He didn’t expect to see Bucky gnawing his fingernails into oblivion, unshaven and wild-eyed.

 

“Buck?” His voice rattled his throat. 

 

Fuck, they had probably had to hook him up to the breather thingy. Bucky’s eyes flew towards him and stared, looking like a startled animal. Bucky started saying something to him but Clint just tapped his ears. He rummaged in his many pockets produced Clint’s aides from his pant’s cargo pocket.

 

“Whyd’ you need so many pockets if you never leave the tower?” Clint asked as the beeping and whirring of the medical machinery flooded his brain. He looked over to see that Bucky was on his knees on the floor next to his hospital bed, gripping it with both hands. He had his face buried between his arms. Shit. They had gotten fairly good at the soulmate thing over the past month, becoming friends, quickly becoming friends who made out sometimes, ok a lot. He could feel their bond growing stronger day by day.

 

“Baby, hey, Buck.”  He carded his hands through the unwashed dark hair. “I’m ok, it’s ok.”   
  
“I ….could  _ feel _ it” Bucky choked out, half sob and half choking. “I felt you get injured. I-I thought-”   
  
Clint tugged on his hair to lift his face and kissed him. He felt a tear from Bucky’s eyes meet their lips. “I’m sorry.” He caressed Bucky’s chin with his hand not hooked to an IV. “I’m sorry.”

 

“I just-I can’t…” Bucky just closed his eyes and rested his forehead on Clint’s “I didn’t know I could feel loss like that.”

 

Clint’s heart broke into a million pieces. “Oh Buck.” He looked into the greenish eyes that were carrying so much pain. “I don’t want to put you through this either. This is my job though.” He gestured around. “Although I’m gonna be off-duty for a while this heals.”

 

Bucky just looked at him with his watery eyes and felt selfish. “Can you-Can you ask to be put on less missions? Or do lower risk work?” Clint’s face was unreadable. “At least...at least until my name gets cleared and I can join you.”

 

The blue eyes lit up in shock. Clint searched Bucky’s face, still wet from the tears, but he just nodded happily. “They’re gonna let me join the team as soon as Fury and Stark work out the old SHIELD/HYDRA mess of records.”

 

“Babe we can be sniper boyfriends.” Clint felt giddy, but that might be pain medication. “I love it.”   
  
“I love you.” Bucky said, kissing his smile. “I love you so much you reckless idiot.”   
  


“Holy shit I love you too.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm BAD at any type of hurt/angst so oof this was hard for me but !!! we have the love people
> 
> i'm gonna write one more chapter to wrap this up and ther'll probably be some M/E rated stuff ahhh
> 
> thank you all for the response to this! it started off as a tiny little plotbunny in my head late at night and has blossomed into something i really like!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this escalates very quickly and i have no explanation
> 
> this is porn, people
> 
> uhhhhhhhhh

“Fuck yeah babe!! Have I told you your murder face is hot?”   
  
“Only about 50 times this mission, Barton.” Tony’s voice cut into Clint’s cheering as Bucky obliterated the alien whatever-the-fucks.

 

Bucky’s name had been cleared a week before Clint had been cleared for missions by medical, but this was their first time on mission together. They both, of course, had more kills than anyone else but the team was teasing them endlessly about their flirting on comms. 

 

“Shut up Tony.” Bucky said without venom over the comm. “And we’re all clear up high, can we get a lift down? Or want us to shoot from up here?”

 

Tony came and scooped them both off opposite roofs and deposited them on the street where the rest of the team was finishing off the rest of the aliens. They all waited for clean-up to arrive, a few bold civilians emerging from the relative safety of the surrounding buildings. Once first responders and what was left of SHIELD clean-up team arrived, they all made their way back to the tower.

 

“I’ll debrief tomorrow, this was a small-scale deal so no need for the whole team.” Steve said as the team trouped into the common area and poured drinks or flopped onto sofas. 

 

“Thanks, cap.” came from multiple mouths around the room

 

“Don’t mention it.” Steve waved his hand at them. “Buck how was your first mission with the team?”

 

“It was good.” Bucky smiled, still feeling the adrenaline from the mission. Clint playfully fell into his side. “Great, really.”

 

“Good to have ya back.” Steve did that bro-clap on Bucky’s shoulder. “Well this old man’s going to shower and nap. Team dinner tonight?”

 

General noises of agreement and a few half hearted salutes were thrown at Steve as he retreated to the elevator and his own floor.  Bucky trailed after Clint as he poured himself a mug of coffee and leaned against the counter. 

 

“You get tired after mission too old man?” Clint teased him, jostling him with his foot. Bucky actually blushed a nice shade of pink and mumbled something. “What was that?”

 

“Not exactly.” Bucky’s voice cracked as he avoided eye contact. Clint was suitably intrigued and raised an eyebrow at him. “I um.” His face was flushed bright red like the star on his arm. “I get...stimulated on mission”

 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Clint inhaled sharply as he met his boyfriend’s eyes. They were flitting around like Bucky was nervous. Maybe he was, they hadn’t gone further than making out on the couch and rubbing against each other like teenagers. But they were apparently destined to be together, so it wasn’t like Bucky had any reason to not tell Clint. 

 

“Well.” Clint levied his options. “I think the line goes, your place or mine?” 

 

\---

 

Bucky was almost shy, taking Clint’s hand into the elevator and pressing kisses onto the back of his neck as Clint unlocked his door. They stumbled lightly into Clint’s living room and Bucky got pulled in for a hot, open mouthed kiss. He wrapped his flesh hand around Clints waist and ran the metal one through his freshly-shorn hair, relishing in the small noises that came from the archer’s mouth. Clint pushed back against him, guiding them down the hall to the bedroom until they both flopped onto the purple sheets. 

 

“Hi.” Clint said, looking at Bucky next to him.

 

“Hi.” Bucky said back breathlessly. 

 

Right. He got aroused during missions. Clint rolled on top of him and straddled those incredible thighs as he kissed Bucky, cupping his face with both hands. He rolled his hips and felt just how  _ stimulated _ Bucky had gotten during their fighting. When he pulled their faces apart, Bucky whined in protest and pulled Clint’s body down flush to his. 

 

“Babe-” Clint’s talking was muffled by Bucky’s enthusiastic kissing. “Buck. How-”  He finally pushed Bucky up a bit to look him in the eyes. “How far do you wanna take this. And uh-how do you want it…”

 

Bucky looked up at him with his eyelids at half mast and smiled the smile that could rustle a thousand petticoats. “I’d like you to fuck me.” He pulled Clint back down and attacked his mouth with a bruising kiss. “If you think you can last that long.”   
  
“You’re on baby”

 

Clint dropped his hips to roll them slowly against Bucky’s stiff cock in his tac pants that he hadn’t changed out of. He could tease Bucky for ages like this, just listening to the quiet moans that fell from Bucky’s mouth. But he also wanted more. Clint made quick work of the zipper and chuckled when he saw Bucky’s tight boxer briefs that were a shocking purple color. No longer obscured by the tightness of the tac pants, there was a fairly obscene bulge outlined in the purple fabric. 

 

Bucky cried out and gripped at Clint’s hair with both hands as he mouthed his cock over the fabric of his underwear. The hot friction was making him grind his hips upward to try and chase more. With a chuckle, Clint pushed Bucky’s hips down and pulled his underwear and pants completely off. He pressed a few kisses onto the muscular thighs around his head and surprised Bucky by not going for his cock but instead licking down his perineum and lapping around his rim. 

 

“Oh-” Bucky’s soft surprised gasp had him lifting his hips up to try and further his pleasure. 

 

Clint paused only to shove a pillow under Bucky’s hips and continued licking around his rim until he was writhing and bucking his hips into the grip Clint had on them. Bucky shouted when his tongue finally breached his tight hole and started fucking into him, making him wet and sloppy to take Clint’s cock. The thought made Bucky moan and whine obscenely, only encouraging Clint’s efforts. Cool air on his wet skin made Bucky look around to see Clint rummaging in his bedside until he found and poured lube on his fingers. His first finger slid into Bucky and he sighed as he felt himself relax to allow himself to be opened. Clint kissed his neck and face, avoiding his mouth until Bucky moved his face to kiss him on the lips. The push and pull of their lips worked in time to Clint’s steady nudges into Bucky with his fingers. 

 

“Is this ok Buck?” Clint pulled away breathlessly, now with three fingers inside Bucky and his own cock straining against the zipper of his pants.

 

“It’d be better if you were naked and inside me.” Bucky said cheekily. Clint gave him a sharp glance that immediately softened with a kiss. He leaned over to rustle through the box of condoms in the drawer but Bucky pulled him back. “I can’t catch or give anything, knock-off serum baby, I ain’t been sick since ’45”

 

“Fuck” Clint hurried to shuck his own pants and underwear off as Bucky’s hands tore his shirt off. “You ok with this?” He looked solidly into Bucky’s eyes. 

 

“Again, I’ll be a lot more ok when you’re-hnggg” Bucky’s sass was cut off by the tip of Clint’s lubed cock teasing at his entrance, threatening to breach but never quite pushing in. “Don’t make me beg, babe.”   
  
“Ok not this time.” Clint’s voice was low and gravelly as he finally pushed his hips forward and made shallow thrusts until their hips were flush. 

 

After Bucky shuffled his legs to loop around Clint’s waist and wiggled himself down further onto his cock, Clint rolled his hips shallowly. He kept himself buried deep, holding Bucky’s hips and-

 

“Oh-” Bucky hadn’t had his prostate fucked since the war and he swore he saw stars. 

 

Clint rolled his hips again, keeping the angle but pulling out more each time to increase his slow thrusting. The first full drag of Clint’s cock all the way out to feel the tip just inside his rim made Bucky throw his head back, hair fanning out around him on the purple sheets as he closed his eye and felt himself become full as Clint pushed back in. 

 

“That good baby?” Clint’s voice was as wrecked as Bucky felt, but he touched their foreheads together as he continued fucking slowly into his soulmate. 

 

“So good.” Bucky responded breathlessly, content to just feel Clint dragging his dick through him forever if he could. 

 

“Can you come on just my cock?” Clint’s voice was filthy in his ear

 

“If-if you go harder.” Bucky responded, his voice just as low and fucked out.

 

“Like” Clint snapped his hips forward harshly. “This?”

 

Yes, judging by the shout that came from Bucky as Clint did it again and built up a rapid pace, digging his hands into Bucky’s hips that would leave bruises. Bucky was clenching around him as he slammed forward into his prostate each time he bottomed out. The metal hand scrabbled at the sheets and tore a pillowcase as Bucky closed his eyes and his untouched cock sent his release all over his bare stomach as he came with a shout. Clint’s face softened as he watched Bucky’s pure pleasure and he felt himself release into Bucky and fuck them both through the aftershocks of their orgasms. He collapsed onto his forearms on top of Bucky and exhaled fully, feeling himself go soft inside him. 

 

“Yeah I’m glad you’re cleared to go on missions with us, hun.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANYWAY thank you all for reading! Thanks for making it to the end of this with me, i'm glad we all made it. Thanks BDBD for sprinting most of this with me and dealing with my yelling.
> 
> Find me on twitter @_AMAMOT


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